Left 4 Dead: Los Angeles Stronghold
by Bladex1200
Summary: Enter Fire Team Zulu. They've been waiting for Army pickup in a city outside LA. Now they're going to get out of here. They've been Left 4 Dead, and now they aren't waiting anymore. Discontinued. Rating lowered to T.
1. Chapter 1: No Salvation

Disclaimer: I don't own the ever wonderful Left 4 Dead series or its characters. Those are Valve's creations. I simply own this fanfiction.

A little background information before the story actually begins:

The story itself is set in an anonymous city about 40 miles outside Los Angeles. There are four people in the group: Sergeant Marcus Voyavich (the group's leader), Private "Mac" Johnson (the group's "all-around" guy with no specialty), Private "Falcon" Engle (the group's medic and sniper), and Corporal Amy Zayne (the group's gunner and weapon's specialist).

The infected in this fanfiction will be the same as in Left 4 Dead and Left 4 Dead 2. The special infected will also be the same (they'll just have different names, since this IS the military), and I will not be adding any more infected. The survivors from the original game and the sequel may or may not appear in the story. I'm not making any promises, though. Sorry.

Anyway, on to the fanfic!

Four people huddled around the oil barrel, which had a warm fire burning on top of it. They were angry people. They were scared people. More importantly, they were trained people. They were trained to shoot - trained to **kill**. One of them, a medium-built man with blue eyes and matted, brown hair picked up the radio.

"This is Sergeant Marcus Voyavich of Fire Team Zulu, can anyone hear me?" he listened to the radio's quiet crackles and static for a sound. Any sound of the human voice. When more static filled his ears, he threw it on the ground.

"Piece of complete shit," he muttered under his breath. He walked over and picked it up. Whether it was damaged or not, he didn't care. For all he knew, everyone in the world was dead, except for him and his three other comrades. He looked around, flexing his muscles (not too big, more like swimmer's muscles) as he did so.

The first one who met his tanned face was a tall, slim man. His skin was pale, although not to the extent of the infected, and he had long hands. His face was gaunt and he had black hair and brown eyes. Falcon, as he was affectionately called by his fellow soldiers, was cleaning his SCAR-L Assault Rifle.

The next one was a shorter, darker man with a chubbier (although still skinny) body. He was charcoal black and had black, wirey hair. What got Marcus to ask for him to be transferred to his unit, though, were the man's dark brown, almost black eyes. They were eyes that peered into your soul. "Mac" (he requested to be called that, though no one knew why) was lighting a cigarette and leaned back casually against a trash bag.

The final soldier who caught his gaze was a young woman. She had barely joined the Army one, maybe two years ago. She was the fattest of the group, although that wasn't saying much (again, she was still skinny). Her face was tanned and she had dark red hair and emerald eyes. Amy (her actual name was Amanda, but she hated that name) was busy eating what was left of her assigned K-Ration for today.

Falcon was quiet for a while as he cleaned his rifle, and then he looked up at Marcus.

"You know," he said, "I don't think the army's coming. We leave and we might have a better chance of survival."

"That's against army protocol, isn't it?" Amy stopped eating from her K-Ration and looked up, "Well, isn't it?"

"Of course," Marcus responded, "But what other choice do we have? Damn shitty radio. I bet you they're probably waiting for us to radio them, but this **fucking** thing can't signal to them!"

"Calm down," Mac put out his cigarette, "Falcon's right. We can die here waiting on an army that's probably pushing daisies, or we can act. I say we act."

Mac walked over to the weapon's cache and grabbed his SPAS-12 Shotgun. He donned his Army-issue jacket and began assembling his pack. He paused.

"You guys coming?" he asked before resuming. He packed ammunition, his backup pistols, a healthpack, and two adrenaline shots. Satisfied, he slung his pack, set his Desert-camouflage helmet on his head.

Marcus looked on with disdain. How **dare** they override Army protocol! But, he knew they had to go or die. He got up and pulled out his M16A2 rifle, reloading it. As he packed his pack, the others got up and followed suit. Soon they were all ready to move. Falcon began dismantling the army canvas tent they had set up, but Amy stopped him.

"Maybe others will use it," she said. Falcon nodded. He threw what was left of their gasoline supply on the fire to keep it going in case any survivors came over. Some weapons and ammo were left also. They took a look at the camp, which had been their home for the last 5 days, one last time. Then they set off. It was time to make their stand.

Marcus walked out of the alley where their camp had been. Several infected men and women greeted him.

"It's showtime!" he grinned and put his finger on the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2: Elevator Escape

Disclaimer: Once again, Valve owns the Left 4 Dead Universe. I own this lowly fanfic.

The group made short work of the few common infected in the street. Falcon noticed one of the car had a blinking red light.

"Stay away from that car," he cautioned. The group continued moving through the city. After entering an apartment, they took a quick respite to figure out a plan. Mac pulled out a map of the city.

"Now," he began, "Assuming the military isn't wiped out, we can reach them from the safe room on the intersection of 5th and Amber. There's several safe rooms before that so we can rest. Any objections?"

Everyone shook their heads, and the group packed up again. They wandered around, killing the occasional common infected. Marcus went off to explore an abandoned apartment lobby. He rummaged around in one of the trash cans, unaware of the Boomer sneaking up behind him. Falcon and Mac were rummaging through an apartment on the opposite side of the street, and Amy was keeping guard near that apartment. She spotted the Boomer and took it out with one shot from her Hunting Rifle. The intestines and blood scattered onto Marcus.

"Oh! That's some disgusting SHIT!" he coughed and retched. His entire body was coated in Boomer bile. After wiping off his face, he looked to Amy and yelled, "What the fuck?!"

"Sorry!" she yelled back. She ran into the apartment and alerted Falcon and Mac. They nodded to her and the three of them rushed out to help Marcus. The horde was rushing over.

"Not good..." Amy gulped. The four of them got into a diamond formation against one of the outside apartment walls as they awaited the horde. Zombies could be heard shuffling from far away. The sound began to get closer... closer...

Zombies could be seen climbing the fence. Grunts and screams permeated the scene.

"Rawrrr!"

"Yeaghhhh!"

"Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"We can't hold here!" Mac yelled, looking around feverishly for an exit. He found none.

"Into the apartment! Keep firing!" Marcus commanded. The fire team slowly pulled back into the abandoned apartment lobby. They backed into a wall. Falcon looked around hopefully.

"Elevator!" he yelled, pointing frantically at the elevator door across from them, "Let's go!"

Marcus and Mac lay down supressing fire as Falcon and Amy ran to the elevator.

"Alright I'm going!" Marcus got up and ran to the elevator. Mac followed.

"Come on, you goddamn elevator! Work!" Amy punched buttons on the elevator. It creaked, then the doors slowly began to close. They stopped halfway.

"What the hell?" Falcon muttered as he and the others kept firing. They kept up the fire for about 5 minutes.

"We're gonna run out of ammo!" Marcus replaced the clip in his Magnum, "Use your sidearm!"

"Marcus! I think the elevator needs the generator! The power's gone off!" Amy yelled over the gunfire.

"Of course!" Mac nodded, "Falcon, you up?!"

Falcon nodded back. Marcus and Amy took their pistols and covered Falcon and Mac as the duo pushed over the zombies to get to the backup generator upstairs. Mac knuckle-punched one of them.

"Damn!" he laughed as they ran upstairs, "That hurts!"

They made it upstairs and flipped on the generator. The stairs to go to the upper floors were blocked by furniture. Much to their dismay, it was too heavy to move.

"Alright, let's head back downstairs!" Falcon continued kicking back several zombies. They found the elevator as they had left it.

"Come on inside!" Marcus covered them. Handing back their weapons, Amy punched the Level 15 button and the elevator closed. It squashed several zombies in half, and their bodies jammed the door.

"Ahhh... Crap," Marcus hit the bodies out with the butt of his gun, resulting in blood splattering all over him and Falcon. The elevator made a 'clink!' as it shut. Then it hummed quietly and rised.

"Whew," Amy sat down, exhausted, "That was some crazy shit."

"I have a feeling that's probably not the craziest shit we're gonna see today," Mac grunted as he replaced the clips in his dual pistols. The elevator creaked to a stop.

"The hell?" Marcus rubbed his temple. The lights in the elevator flickered on and off before the elevator began to rise again. This time, though, it rose in unnatural bumps and jolts.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Marcus groaned. Falcon smirked and finished his sentence for him, "Zombies are piling up on the elevator."

The elevator service panel on the ceiling began to bend down. The elevator stopped again. It hung there, swinging back and forth under the weight of many zombies.

"Looks like we're not going anywhere until these bad boys are gone," Falcon motioned to Amy, who lifted him up. He shot his dual pistols into the service panel, and several muffled grunts could be heard. Several zombies fell off due to the bullets' power, but the elevator still stood motionless. Marcus' face lit up.

"I got an idea," he said, "But we're gonna have to ditch whatever's not completely neccessary, because it involves climbing up the elevator's ropes."

The others were skeptical.

"Exactly what are you planning to do?" Mac asked.

Marcus explained his plan. They would arm a pipe bomb and strap it to the interior of the elevator. Since the elevator had two doors (one door was for passengers and the other for maintainance), they would pry open the maintainance door and jump onto the cables that controlled the other elevator. They would have to climb up a bit, but one of the floors was bound to have an elevator opening that they could pry open to get out.

Everyone agreed, except for Amy.

"I think you're all crazy!" she yelled, waving her arms, "There is no way that's possible!"

"You got a better idea?" Mac asked. Amy was silent. Mac nodded, "I didn't think so."

They readied everything, and Falcon lit the bomb fuse.

"Alright," Marcus said as he pried open the maintainance doors, "Here goes something."

Everyone jumped and grabbed hold of the cables. Zombies looked at the survivors strangely. Then, the pipe bomb went off. Gore and blood splattered all over, making the ropes slippery.

"I-I can't... I'm slipping!" Amy screamed. Her hands lost grip on the slimy, bloody cables and she fell 15 stories down...

"Oh shit! **SHIT!**" Marcus looked down. He shook his head, "Damn. And to think we were such a good team."

Mac and Falcon held a moment of silence before all three of them began their climb back up to safety.

Little did they know, Amy wasn't dead.

"Ugh... What the hell? Where is everybody?"


	3. Chapter 3: Tank!

Disclaimer: Once again, I only own this fanfic. The Left 4 Dead Universe is owned by Valve.

Author's Note: If you're reading this, could you please review? I'm starting to feel like no one's reading my fanfic. If it sucks, at least tell me so I'll stop writing it? Anyway, on with the fanfic!

Amy groaned and sat up. Everything was pitch black around her, and she had to use her hands to blindly wander around.

"Hello?" her voice echoed in the empty elevator shaft, "Anybody there?"

No one answered. She muttered curses under her breath as she tried to find her way around. Suddenly, the electricity in the building went back on. She saw that she was at the bottom of the elevator shaft, in the basement level of the building. Her fall had been broken by several thick, dusty matresses. The elevator door to the basement had been pried open, and a soft light glowed in the damp, quiet basement.

"Might as well make the best of it," she grunted. Looking to her left, she saw a dead survivor. A bullet wound was bleeding out of his head, and he had two pistols, one in each hand. She took them, as well as some food she found on the matresses. Afterwards, she went into the basement. The soft light was emating from a small lantern. She saw a body laying slumped next to a laptop. Carefully, she slipped the body off the chair on which it lay, and sat down. She opened up the laptop, which still had some reserve power left. The military's COMM networks were still on, and she connected to one of the main communication hubs. She logged in, and a chatroom appeared. Amy began typing frantically.

Amy: Hello? Anyone here?

Command: Amy? Oh thank god!

Amy grinned at the laptop. Maybe that fall was a miracle. She continued typing.

Amy: I'm in the basement of an apartment on 3rd Street.

Command: Damn. We can't reach you right now. Are your teammates alive?

Amy: Yeah. They're busy climbing up an elevator shaft. They're also in the apartment. I fell down while I was climbing...

Command: Shit! Tell them not to --

But the Army didn't get to finish their message. The laptop went dead. Amy looked around for a laptop cord, and plugged it back in. The laptop hummed back online.

"Come on," she muttered, "Come on!"

The login screen appeared again. She entered her credentials and was greeted to the chatroom again. This time, however, Command wasn't responding. She kept typing, but got no answer.

Amy: Hello?

Amy: HELLO?!

Amy: Oh dear god, someone answer me!!!

She began sobbing, the computer's glow providing the only light in the basement. The warm lantern light had gone out...

* * *

"What's going on?" Marcus wondered as the electricity went off. The power had come on for some time, and he and the others had managed to climb up to the fifth floor of the apartment. The elevator was blocking access to any of the other floors. After the power went off, he and the others ended up using their pistols' flashlights to navigate around. Mac pried open the fifth floor elevator door.

"Hey guys, look!" Mac smiled and pointed at one of the lit corners of the room, "Supplies! Apparently the survivors here were living well."

"Yeah," Falcon picked up a fully-loaded M16 and several clips, "But what killed them?"

Mac shrugged and picked up several shotgun shells. Marcus grabbed a molotov and some pain pills.

"Hey Marcus, whadda think happened to Amy?" Mac asked as he reloaded his Tactical Shotgun.

"I dunno," Marcus responded. He was quiet for several minutes, and Mac and Falcon got the message.

"Alright," Falcon broke the silence in a voice that was slightly **too** cheery, "Let's go. I bet the military's probably pulling out soon."

"Right," Marcus coughed a bit and slung his weapons.

The trio navigated through the apartment until they reached an open window. There were several boards nailed together that connected both buildings together. Carefully walking over the boards, they spotted the safe room nearby. Crying could be heard.

"Shh..." Falcon clicked off his gun's flashlight, "Crier up ahead."

Marcus and Mac nodded, switching off their flashlights.

"Oh dammit!" Mac pointed up ahead. The Witch was sitting right next to the safe room entrance. Marcus shook his head.

"Guess that molotov's coming in handy," Marcus muttered. He got out the bottle.

"When you throw it, run like hell," Mac said. He nudged towards the window with the boards on it.

"You can hang off the boards," Mac explained, "Hopefully the criers aren't that smart."

Marcus nodded, lit the fuse, and threw the bottle. The Witch screamed.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she stood up and ran towards Marcus.

"Shoot the bitch!" Mac yelled. He and Falcon pumped bullet after bullet and shell after shell into the Witch.

Marcus, meanwhile, ran out the window, tripping.

"OH SHIT!" Marcus flailed around, grabbing for the board. He got lucky.

The Witch slumped as she approached the board, bleeding profusely from several shots in her body. She fell over, hitting one of the cars below. The alarm rang.

"A little help here?" Marcus was pulled up by Mac.

"Looks like we're in for another horde," Falcon observed. Hundreds of common infected could be seen and heard climbing up the apartment walls.

"Alright," Mac cocked his shotgun, "Let's do this."

"AGAIN!" Marcus and Falcon reminded him. He smirked. As the infected began to reach their floor, Mac turned and shot one point-blank in the chest. Falcon sprayed several of them full of M16 rounds.

"Eat this infected BITCHES!" Marcus hit several back with the butt of his gun. He sprayed several bursts into the infected. A deep roar could be heard in the distance.

"Ape.. Ape!!" Mac yelled, pointing at a huge creature who was throwing a car at several common infected. The Tank roared, beating his oversized, muscled chest.

"Focus fire on him!" Marcus yelled. He looked inside at the safe room.

"Don't think about it man!" Mac yelled.

"These Ape Infected can smash through safe room doors," Falcon kept shooting.

The Tank approached them, breaking through an apartment door and scampering up several flights of stairs to their floor.

Marcus frowned, and he yelled, "Keep going! Back into the safe room! Maybe there's something there that can help us!"

Falcon and Mac slowly backed into the safe room, following Marcus. They spotted several sticky bombs lying next to a dead Army body.

Grabbing them, Mac threw them at the incoming Tank. The Tank snorted, confused. He shook his shoulders (his head was shrunk into the shoulders) before running for the door.

"Dammit!" Marcus slammed the safe room door in the Tank's face. The Tank banged against the door, severely denting it.

"Help me!" Marcus yelled. He and Falcon leaned against the door. Their efforts were in vain, however, as the Tank smashed the door in.

"Goodbye!" Mac smirked at a confused Marcus and Falcon, who were rubbing their heads after the Tank smashed them against the wall.

The Tank roared viciously as the sticky bomb fuses neared their target. A huge explosion filled the safe room as each sticky bomb blew up in unison.

"Oh shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Marcus and Falcon yelled in unison as the explosion engulfed the entire safe room.

After the explosion, the safe room lay in rubble. The entire west wing of the apartment had slumped over, the metal rebar being the only thing holding up the rubble of the safe room. Three bodies lay, unmoving, unfeeling...


End file.
